


That fire which refines them

by terabient



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terabient/pseuds/terabient
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Raphael/Siegfried-themed microfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. that fire which refines them

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a bunch of Raphael/Siegfried microfiction that I originally wrote and posted in my personal journal; aside from the pairing there isn't any connecting theme or continuity. Just a lot of angst and occasionally smut. ^^; 
> 
> The first chapter is a fill for the 1sentence challenge community @ LJ.

**#01 Motion**  
Siegfried always keeps moving now, even if it's as simple as tapping his foot - it keeps the memory of being helpless in his own flesh at bay.

**#02 Cool**  
Raphael's first inkling that something has gone terribly wrong is when he feels Amy shiver in his embrace.

**#03 Young**  
When Siegfried was young he dreamed of being feared, for his name to strike terror in the hearts of his enemies; he thinks of that boy now and wonders how he could have been so _stupid._

**#04 Last**  
There's a vicious sort of symmetry, Siegfried thinks, in patricide being his first and last sin.

**#05 Wrong**  
Siegfried knows he shouldn't accept Raphael's cruel touch so willingly - but it seems worse to refuse him, to escape his punishment.

**#06 Gentle**  
There's nothing gentle about his kiss; Raphael's fangs tear into Siegfried's soft, vulnerable lips and rip them to shreds.

**#07 One**  
Raphael will not stand to be one of the many, another nameless victim in Siegfried's litany of shame: it will be his name alone that stands as conquerer.

**#08 Thousand**  
The weight of every soul he'd ever wronged bears down on Siegfried, sinks deep into his being; he feels much, much older than twenty-three.

**#09 King**  
Siegfried does not promise loyalty to him on bended knee in the light of day: but in the night he swears fealty, again and again, each time his voice breaks over Raphael's name.

**#10 Learn**  
His hands shake as he touches Raphael, unsure; the older man's mouth twitches with something between amusement and exasperation before he takes Siegfried's hands in his own and guides them.

**#11 Blur**  
The memory of Siegfried's life before he found Soul Edge is little more than a blur of warmth and color, disjointed images that feel like they belong to someone else.

**#12 Wait**  
More than once, Siegfried finds himself wondering what might have been, if he hadn't abandoned Raphael for dead in Ostrheinsburg.

**#13 Change**  
Some mornings Siegfried wakes with the memory of a monstrous claw grasping and tearing through yielding bodies screaming in the back of his head; on those days he keeps looking at his arm, afraid his dreams have once again become flesh.

**#14 Command**  
There is something in Siegfried's bowed head and trembling hands and searching eyes that makes Raphael think it's not forgiveness he's seeking, but for someone to guide him.

**#15 Hold**  
The blood rises in his throat, spills out on the stone beneath him - then the same hands that broke him are holding him close, and Raphael wonders what sort of man would mourn his enemy.

**#16 Need**  
Amy says she doesn't need anything but him - but she _deserves_ the world and all it holds, and that is reason enough to take it.

**#17 Vision**  
When the images that haunt Siegfried's dreams no longer come from his own memories, he realizes that his darker half once again stalks the earth.

**#18 Attention**  
Raphael takes deep satisfaction in watching Siegfried turn away those who would aid him: he never liked competing for attention.

**#19 Soul**  
Siegfried is never sure why Soul Edge did not simply destroy his soul - was it too strong to take, or too weak to bother with?

**#20 Picture**  
Raphael's glad he never had his portrait done: it's already hard enough to look in the mirror with the memory of the man he'd been for comparison.

**#21 Fool**  
 _And if the sword is this potent in the hands of a fool,_ Raphael thinks, _what might it be capable of in_ my _hands?_

**#22 Mad**  
When Raphael tells Siegfried all the reasons the world must die, Siegfried shudders; he knows all too well only the mad can be so righteous.

**#23 Child**  
Raphael had not thought much of who might dwell in Nightmare's azure armor - but he never would have guessed a mere _boy._

**#24 Now**  
He cannot consider what he has done before, or what may come after: Siegfried only knows his duty, what must be done now.

**#25 Shadow**  
Before, Raphael sought out the shadows, enjoying the veil of darkness and distortion they brought - but now he is tied to them forever, and quietly, he longs for the sun.

**#26 Goodbye**  
They have been pitted against each other long enough that Raphael feels a twinge of loss at the idea of finally slaying Siegfried.

**#27 Hide**  
"You did not come here for forgiveness, or penance - no matter what _you_ may think," Raphael murmurs, hands surprisingly gentle as they stroke Siegfried's tangled honey-blond hair - "You came because you can't stand to see yourself in the light."

**#28 Fortune**  
Why Fate felt it necessary to tie his fortunes to the actions of such an oblivious youth is beyond Raphael's understanding.

**#29 Safe**  
He should not feel so safe in the bed of his enemy - but there are still times when he wakes up with the memory of blood splashing on a twisted claw of an arm, and on those nights, Siegfried revels in the touch of a man who kills as easily as he kisses.

**#30 Ghost**  
They are more dead than not, now; human shells that have been torn apart and pieced together again by forces they only partially control.

**#31 Book**  
"Of course I can _read,"_ Siegfried snaps, "my father was a _knight_ , I'm not some unschooled commoner -" and he's not sure why he cares so much about one man's opinion.

**#32 Eye**  
When the thirst almost becomes overwhelming, when the bitter anger tainting his soul feels like it will consume him, Raphael remembers Soul Edge's unblinking, eternal eye giving way to his sword and knows he will always be master.

**#33 Never**  
There are times when Siegfried thinks he will never find his redemption - that Soul Edge will always stalk his shadows, will always destroy what's dear to him.

**#34 Sing**  
He'd never seen someone fight quite like Raphael before, with movements stepped to the rhythms of battle as surely and gracefully as a dance is set to song.

**#35 Sudden**  
Raphael makes no apologies for questioning humanity's sincerity - his own family had professed to love him, after all, but it had taken only one mistake to make them turn.

**#36 Stop**  
Siegfried's greatest fear is that no matter how hard he tries, no matter how deep his conviction runs - his Nightmare will prove to be stronger; that his best will not be enough to stop it.

**#37 Time**  
There are days when Raphael can feel Soul Edge's madness eating away at his mind, and he wonders how long it will be until there's nothing left.

**#38 Wash**  
The servants learn very quickly not to complain about washing out the bloodstains in Raphael's clothing.

**#39 Torn**  
Siegfried rests calloused fingers along the old wound where Soul Edge ripped Raphael open, and the scar left when Soul Calibur rent Siegfried asunder aches in sympathy; the mark of the swords binds them together as surely as they once tore their bodies apart.

**#40 History**  
"And so - with the thought of _you,_ my sweet daughter, guiding my hand - I stabbed the hideous beast through the eye and freed the beautiful princess trapped in - Siegfried, stop glaring, it's an... _allegorical fable."_

**#41 Power**  
Siegfried wishes he knew what to say to Raphael to warn him, to tell him how the power he longs to wield won't bring the peace he seeks.

**#42 Bother**  
And on the darkest days, when he is forced to confront those who would visit vengeance upon him, Siegfried thinks of his past and wonders if his actions have any worth at all.

**#43 God**  
With Soul Calibur Siegfried has the power to make right and wrong, to reshape heaven and earth; Raphael cannot understand why he insists on asking the world for forgiveness.

**#44 Wall**  
What Siegfried is most grateful for, oddly enough, is that Raphael never tries to tear down the walls he's built between himself and the world.

**#45 Naked**  
Raphael knows of no one else who - by his simple admittance that he'd been wrong in his pursuit of power, in his deep grief over the lives he'd trampled - is able to strip Raphael's motives of all nobility and lay them bare as the naked ambitions they are.

**#46 Drive**  
Siegfried has no family, no love that Raphael knows of; he does not know what drives the man to action.

**#47 Harm**  
Siegfried would avoid fighting Raphael, if he could - but he knows letting the man go will only cause greater harm, in the end.

**#48 Precious**  
He can't help but gasp when he first sees Siegfried with Soul Calibur; it is like watching an angel fall, wreathed in diamond armor and borne on diamond wings - then Raphael catches himself, and scoffs at the notion - there is nothing holy about _this_ man.

**#49 Hunger**  
Raphael does not care about the nature, or the number, of the people who die to slake his thirst; what he hates is his inability to deny it, to conquer it - the bloodlust _rules_ him, and he was never one to serve.

**#50 Believe**  
Deep inside the Nightmare that has possessed him, Siegfried meets sky-blue eyes, and the glint of sun off steel sears his vision; in that moment of fearless challenge, he believes in salvation.


	2. Thanatos

This was not what Raphael expected.

Siegfried knelt before him, Requiem laid at his feet, neck exposed in offering. His face was smooth, unworried, his mouth a long, firm line, eyes blank and dull as stone.

Raphael drew his rapier and pressed the tip against Siegfried's jugular. The man didn't flinch, didn't blink, even as his breath misted the sword's cool tempered steel.

What _had_ he expected? An army, perhaps, bearing armor adorned with Wolfkrone's seal, and this man - his nemesis - at its head, ready to bury the last remnant of his final, cruelest sin?

Certainly Raphael had not considered this...supplication. This _surrender_. Nor had he thought how unsatisfactory such an act would be.

Raphael's grip on Flambert's hilt tightened, until his hand ached from the strain. Siegfried stared up at him, silent, unreadable; and yet there was something in the slight part of Siegfried's lips, the sweet curve of his throat, that seemed to speak of an eagerness -

Raphael threw his sword to the ground.

"You _bastard,"_ he hissed, "you would take even the joy of your death from me."

He turned away, leaving Siegfried alone and kneeling before the looming darkness of his castle. 

And when the night's silence was broken by Siegfried's frustrated wail, he found himself smiling.


	3. Fever Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written as two ficlets - the same scene, from different viewpoints. So it's, uh, rather repetitive. ^^;

Siegfried's left arm never did heal quite right. In the juncture between shoulder and collarbone his flesh is puckered and scarred, brands that speak of inhuman transformation. Dry, heated lips trace the path of those scars, and the muscles of his arm spasm uncontrollably.

"You remember what it was like-?" A whisper against his skin, felt more than heard. 

"Yes," he sighs; tries to ignore his quivering limbs and the memory of flesh becoming hard as bone. It is not easy to do when the cruel result of his sins stares him in the face, red eyes bright in the darkness.

The kiss of his lips is like the kiss of his sword, light and quick, almost sweet before he breaks the skin and draws blood. He is not so surprised to find Raphael fucks the way he fights: deft hands seeking weakness (Siegfried's lips parted, open, the shadows of his mouth a warm invitation; thighs that part easy and eager to insistent touch) and merciless when he finds it.

Supple hands close over the hard length of his cock, and he groans, only part of it from desire. He remembers, all too well, what it is like to suffer Soul Edge's fever - always hungry, never sated, wanting to crush and break and ruin everyone and everything - and the memory makes him ache with something like sympathy.

"This changes - nothing, you understand," Raphael says.

No, this surrender - the only penance he can think to offer - will change nothing, he agrees. But there is something, perhaps, to sharing a burden, in offering respite from unholy thirst, even if it is only a moment.

"I know," he answers, and raises his head to kiss pale cheeks. 

The taste of salt, hot and bitter, lingers on his tongue.

\---

Siegfried plays at being human better than Raphael does. His lifeblood pulses steady under his skin, stains his cheeks red; his flesh is damp with sweat. Only the chill that frosts every touch hints at the truth.

His body is lined with scars, marking where the soul-swords have sought to reshape him. Raphael presses his mouth to the puckered skin at his shoulder, feeling the ridges caused by bones that never set quite right, and Siegfried shudders beneath him.

"You remember what it was like-?"

"Yes," he answers, a whispered confession of guilt breathed against Raphael's throat.

Raphael draws his tongue over Siegfried's collarbone, his chest; traces the starburst scar there with his lips before setting razor-edged fangs against it, tearing open the flesh that Soulcalibur has stitched back together. The blood that fills Raphael's mouth is cool, thin, like water laced with iron, soothing his parched tongue.

He runs his hands over stomach, hips, thighs; Siegfried's body is firm and chill as ice, easing the bitter fever that burns in Raphael's veins. He wants, needs, more; would pull Siegfried apart and cram every last bit of that coldness inside him if he could: but instead he must settle for this, his hands around Siegfried's cock and the other man's gasping surrender echoing between them.

"This changes - nothing, you understand," he says raggedly. There is no offering, no penance - least of all _this_ one - that can possibly mend the rifts that lie between them.

Siegfried raises his gaze to meet Raphael's, and for the first time there is _something,_ a flicker of warmth, under the surface of his eyes.

"I know," he whispers, and lifts his head to kiss Raphael's cheeks, the touch as light as raindrops on his skin.

He does not understand why his eyes sting so.


	4. Resting Comfortably

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SCII AU: Giving the dead their due.

The man is dead.

Siegfried approaches the body slowly, his steps heavy with guilt. How much time has passed since Soul Edge was first damaged and when he finally threw off its influence, he isn't sure, but in the end it doesn't matter. He had been weak - found wanting - and again someone else had suffered for it.

Siegfried kneels, reaches out with a trembling hand to shut the staring eyes. 

He should do - _something._ The man deserves more than Ostrheinsburg's broken floor as a resting place, more than Siegfried's sin-stained soul as witness.

At the very least, the body deserves _peace -_

***

Raphael opens his eyes and finds nothing but gritty darkness. He tries to move, but a great weight presses on his limbs, keeps them still at his side.

The darkness becomes suffocating. Raphael tries to breathe, and something thick and damp and cold fills his mouth.

Sudden realization hits him. He screams, but dirt fills his lungs and throat and silences him.

 _This_ will kill him, he thinks: but a minute passes, then another, and gradually Raphael understands that somehow, he has escaped death.

For the first time in his life, Raphael begins to panic.


	5. and you lie at my feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it means to dominate.

"Raphael," Siegfried breathes raggedly, "you don't have to do this -"

"Are you _refusing_ me?" Red eyes glare at him through a fringe of fine silver-blond hair.

Siegfried shakes his head. "No, never..." It's hard to think when Raphael is this close, kneeling before him - and it's the sight of that supplication, more than anything else, that makes Siegfried's body ache. Gloved fingers undo his trousers and stroke his hardened shaft lazily, and Siegfried bites back the frustrated wail that wells up in his throat. Raphael pauses, tantalizingly close, breath warm and moist against Siegfried's cock, and it takes all of Siegfried's will to keep from grasping at the silken hair inches from his fingertips and force that tempting mouth to take him in.

 _"Please,"_ Siegfried whispers, strained, and with that desperate plea Raphael engulfs him in soft, wet heat. Siegfried arches back, groaning, because Raphael is good, so _good_ \- slick, hot, supple tongue teasing the sensitive flesh at the head, leather-clad hands squeezing what he can't fit in his mouth. Siegfried pants, wonders through a haze of pleasure why Raphael would deign to do this -

It is not until Siegfried tangles his hands in Raphael's hair, only to receive a warning growl in return - when powerful hands clamp his hips down to hold him still - that Siegfried understands there can be dominance in willing submission. Denied the right to guide, Siegfried scrabbles for purchase on the wall behind him, each breath he takes a gasping sob in Raphael's name. Raphael wears him down, lips and tongue and hands as devastating as any weapon; Siegfried's knees buckle as he nears climax, would give way completely were Raphael not holding him up. 

Siegfried comes, surrenders, sinks to his knees in defeat. For long moments all he can do is lie at Raphael's feet, gasping, fighting the urge to slip his hands between his thighs and tease the last tremulous sparks of pleasure there. 

"Did you enjoy it?" Raphael asks, making no attempt to hide the amused contempt in his voice. Siegfried looks at him - still fully clothed, his glistening lips the only hint of what has just transpired - and suddenly he _hates,_ with a viciousness that startles him; hates that another man can bring him to his knees this easily. 

Siegfried considers saying no - but there is no lying to those eyes, not when his thighs still bear the mark of Raphael's hands, when his throat is still raw from calling his name.

"Yes," he murmurs, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Raphael smirks, his gaze cracking over the sight of Siegfried's flushed skin like a whip. 

Wordlessly, he turns on his heel, abandoning Siegfried upon the stone floor.


	6. The Darkness We Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter what happens, Raphael is always in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of, vaguely placed this during SCIV, timeline-wise.

In defeat, Raphael is silent, wordless as Siegfried kneels to make his claim. Siegfried parts black cloth, ruffled lace, bares pale flesh to cold air, the only sound to pass the alluring curve of his lips a soft exhalation of breath.

The reticence surprises him. On the battlefield Siegfried has laid Raphael low, again and again; but loss had never dulled the sharp edge of his speech, or dimmed the fierce challenge burning deep within bloodstained eyes. He wonders what has changed, to make that proud back arch at Siegfried's touch, when the bite of his sword could not make him bend. Perhaps victory has always been this close, this quiet, willing submission the true end his rival had sought.

The thought makes Siegfried ache; his hands grow rougher, turn white flesh blue in their hunger. Still Raphael says nothing, though his breathing becomes fast and shallow and his legs grip Siegfried's waist in unconcealed want. Siegfried's hands move lower, to trace the firm curve of taut backside, cupping, parting, penetrating. He gasps; the sudden embracing heat and flexing softness is almost more than he can bear.

Raphael's lips part in a soundless cry, body trembling beneath Siegfried's as he shifts to accept rigid, unyielding flesh. Siegfried pushes deeper, frustration mounting in the face of persistent silence, wanting to hear that arrogant voice breaking over his name -

"You _insult_ me," Raphael hisses, brilliant eyes never wavering, even when Siegfried reaches between them and grasps Raphael's arousal. "I can take all you can give- or is _this_ your limit?" Raphael moves, sudden, _decisive,_ and Siegfried moans as that hot, tight channel envelops him fully. "Do you even remember how to take, to _own -"_

Siegfried thrusts, _hard,_ to quiet that mocking tone; he elicits only a sharp intake of breath, and thighs that squeeze so tightly he thinks he may snap from the pressure. Long fingers tangle in his hair, pulling until his eyes turn bright with tears; in return he moves harder, faster, supple flesh quivering at the brutal assault.

Raphael gives first, seed spilling hot and thick into Siegfried's waiting hand. On the heels of that surrender Siegfried cannot last for long, and he comes, body shaking with the intensity of climax. Raphael nuzzles at his throat, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of Siegfried's effort.

"Not enough," he murmurs, and Siegfried feels soft lips twist into a derisive smile. "Not nearly enough."


	7. The Sweetest Vintage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael, doing what vampires do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Kink Bingo's 'tiny bingo' challenge, with blood kink as the prompt.

This close Siegfried smells of steel and sweat, of soil and fresh grass and budding wildflowers. He smells alive, vibrant, and Raphael's whole body aches with jealousy and want. He traces the line of Siegfried's neck with his lips, leaves skin kissed by the sun glistening. Siegfried tilts his head back, exposing more of that sweet unguarded throat. 

“This will hurt,” Raphael breathes against damp skin. The body in his arms shivers.

Raphael rips open the soft flesh. Blood spurts hot and thick into his mouth, and he drinks it down, gorging on the lifeblood he no longer possesses.


End file.
